


Pretend

by schwertlilie



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Countries Using Human Names, Hetalia Kink Meme, M/M, Open Relationships, Unrequited Love, poly gone wrong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2016-01-19
Packaged: 2018-05-14 22:38:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5761558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schwertlilie/pseuds/schwertlilie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It started as fun: four nations and one hotel room, spending their conference evenings blowing off steam (and each other).</p><p>It doesn't stay that way, no matter how much Matthew pretends otherwise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pretend

**Author's Note:**

> Originally from the kink meme, [here](http://hetalia-kink.livejournal.com/19013.html?thread=67793989#t67793989), February 2011.

Lukas = Netherlands, Ari = Iceland

~ ~ ~

 

_now_

Matthew loves blowing Alfred. He still gags if he takes a cock too far down his throat, and he can't get off just from giving head like his brother does, but it's worth it to have Alfred's attention on him. Just on Matthew. To see Alfred's mouth fall open when Matthew uses just the tiniest amount of teeth on his head, or the funny nose wrinkle he gets when he's about to come.

Matthew loves it because when Alfred is gasping his name he can pretend that it's the only name Alfred calls, and that he's the only one who gets to suck him off.

 

 

_then_

It starts with a NATO meeting, and a few too many beers the evening after.

When they wake up in the morning, tired and sticky and tangled together under hotel bed sheets, it's Alfred who smiles and asks "Can we do this again?"

They do.

 

 

_now_

Matthew sees Francis staring at him all afternoon while Arthur & Alfred bicker, and he doesn't like it - doesn't like the way Francis considers, tries to get him alone. So he stalls.

He makes it until the evening and supper clean-up, as he scrubs the roasting pan free of burnt potato.

"Mon petit," Francis murmurs from his perch on the counter, "you've been telling tales."

"I don't know what you mean." It's automatic.

Francis clucks his tongue. "You do." He crosses his legs, just inside Matthew's peripheral vision. "I've been talking with Lukas, and he mentioned that you have not slept with him in over a year. Yet, he is the one you talk about when asked about your 'extra-curriculars.'"

Matthew glares at the dishwater, because he can't meet Francis' eyes, not now. "I don't see how that matters."

"Relationships don't work without trust, darling, and lying breaks that trust. I thought you knew that much, at least."

"Is that what this is, a relationship?"

"An unconventional one, yes."

"Huh."

"You would define it differently?"

"A relationship is between two people."

"Ah." Matthew hears the slide of cloth-over-tile as Francis puts his feet to the floor, wraps his arms around Matthew's stomach. "Is that it? That you wish for someone in particular?"

He doesn't respond, and that's answer enough for Francis.

"Oh, _mon petit_."

 

The dishwater is cold when the tears stop, and Francis keeps his silence.

 

 

_then_

It's two years in when Matthew knows he's in trouble.

The IMF meeting had gone horribly, just like always, and the four of them have taken over Alfred & Arthur's room. Alfred has separated the nightstand from the wall, given them room to push the two queen-sized beds together.

Arthur is watching from one side, fondling his dick, and Francis is making comments from his perch on the pillows. Matthew really should be paying attention to Francis - his erection is only about a foot away - but all he can concentrate on is the way Alfred is riding his cock.

Alfred's _gorgeous_ , a flush spreading down his chest, sweat shining on his skin. He's making little "ah ah ah" noises as he grinds down, and his chin is tipped back so that he's staring blankly at the horrible floral print wallpaper. He's close, Matthew knows, and he tips Alfred's face back down toward him. He doesn't really _look_ at Matthew until after he's come all over Matthew's stomach, but when their eyes meet for real all Matthew wants is for Alfred to smile like that just for him. To hold him and fuck him and to come just for him.

His stomach clenches in a way that has nothing to do with the orgasm that spirals through him.

 

 

_now_

"I love you." It's quiet and it's awkward, but it gets Alfred's attention.

"Love you too, bro." He grins, and pulls Matthew down onto the couch for a noogie.

"No, it's-" He squirms. "I love _you_. Just you."

The basketball game is too loud in the sudden silence; Kobe makes a three-pointer before Alfred speaks. "And the others?"

"They're fun, but I don't love them."

"Matt, I-" He takes a breath, adjusts Matthew on his lap. "I love them too - Arthur and Francis and Kiku and the rest. That's the way I'm wired."

"So that's a no, then."

"Loving them doesn't mean I love you any less!"

"Just not in the right way."

"There's no right way to love someone, Matt. Love just _is_." Matthew pushes at Alfred's chest, and Alfred just pulls hum tighter. "Matt-"

"Let me go," he whispers. He's not going to lose it in front of Alfred, he's _not_.

Alfred gives him just enough slack, and he slides out of Alfred's arms. Grabs his coat and scarf and ignores the way Alfred is looking at him. It's the kicked puppy expression, and if he turns he'll stop moving, let Alfred pull him back into his orbit.

He slips on his boots and walks out the door, and he's half-way to the border before he remembers that he left his gloves on Alfred's hall table.

 

 

And that's that. Matthew goes home, changes his locks, and allows himself fade further into the background of international meetings. Moves to his Labrador house and does his work over the internet, takes Kumajirou out hunting. Invites Ari to go ice-fishing.

When he's able to look Alfred in the eye without feeling like he's been punched in the gut, he'll answer Alfred's messages, invite him to a hockey game. But until then...

Until then, it's easier to pretend that none of it ever happened.

 


End file.
